


Long Road Home

by Mizmak



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, M/M, Romance, Serious Injuries, Sleepy Cuddles, self-indulgent soppiness, they can miracle the injuries away but it takes a bit longer than usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:01:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21750418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mizmak/pseuds/Mizmak
Summary: A car accident injures both Crowley and Aziraphale...some depiction of painful injuries that take longer to heal than usual but it will be fine in the end, trust me.  Then comes the recovery in bed, of course, with the romantic soppiness as always.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 98
Collections: My faves - Good Omens Whump





	Long Road Home

Crowley was driving too fast.

They were on a winding, hilly road outside Balmoran in the Scottish highlands. Aziraphale had talked him into it – there was a recluse living at Balmoran manor who had a rare book he wanted. He’d arranged to meet the fellow to make a purchase, and hadn’t wanted to spend hours on the train. 

Now he regretted the choice. Crowley always did drive too fast for him, and while he claimed to know what he was doing, that he could avoid accidents by the judicious use of demonic miracles, the angel didn’t feel reassured. True, he had seen only one or two other cars for quite some time on this out-of-the-way road. But dusk was falling, vision was lessening, and the hills weren’t getting any lower.

Then the rain started. Crowley didn’t slow down.

“Could you not go so fast?” he finally asked, knowing the answer he’d get.

He was surprised when Crowley let up on the gas. “Sorry. Habit.”

“Thank you.” Aziraphale relaxed a little. Still a bit over the speed limit, but not enough to be terrifying. 

He had noticed that ever since their escape from the end of the world and its consequences, that his friend had been more solicitous of his needs, more thoughtful, more – dare he think it – tender? 

Dare he wonder if Crowley would ever admit to loving him? Aziraphale smiled. It wasn’t as if he needed to say the words aloud – although it would be wonderful if he did. The love could not be clearer – Crowley had asked him to run away with him to the stars, after all. How could that be anything but love?

Things had definitely changed between them. Crowley rarely left his company now. And Aziraphale had no reason to protest any longer that they were supposed to be enemies, which he had only said to placate Heaven. No one Up There was watching anymore.

He was thinking rather pleasing thoughts about how nice everything had turned out when the accident happened.

A cat darted across the road, and Crowley instinctively swerved. Before Aziraphale had even a moment to create a protective miracle, before he even had time to register what was happening, the car crashed through a barrier and tumbled over and over down the hillside.

He was aware of a series of shooting pains as he bounced against the metal, and heard something break in his arm. Then his head banged against the window, and he saw flashes of light as more pain seared across his forehead.

It all happened in mere seconds. Aziraphale stopped being tossed around as the car finally came to rest, upright thank goodness, on solid ground. He hurt everywhere, and evening had fallen – darkness surrounded them. At least the rain had stopped.

Then he looked to see how Crowley had fared, only to see no one there. 

The driver’s door was flung open. He saw something dark and crumpled on the ground beyond. “No…Crowley!” The effort sent a stab of agony through his chest. Ribs cracked, perhaps broken. He could do nothing to help until he healed himself.

It took far longer than he wanted it to. Miracle by miracle, Aziraphale healed his own wounds, slowly working from his head down, first curing the gash on his forehead, then putting the broken ribs back into place. It hurt – he’d never felt so much hurt before. 

And the worst pain was in his heart, knowing Crowley needed him, and not being able to reach him yet.

Every effort he made took some strength from him, and he feared he’d have nothing left over. Perhaps he should leave some damage uncured and save that strength for Crowley…

He had healed the deep bruises inside his abdomen, and the only pain left was in his legs. They could wait. Aziraphale pulled himself across the seat, and crawled out of the driver’s side towards his friend. As he reached the ground and tried to get closer, he screamed. The pain in his legs was too great. He couldn’t move….

It tore him apart to risk losing his powers, but he had no choice. He wouldn’t be of any use to Crowley at all if he couldn’t even reach him. 

With a great effort, he concentrated on healing his legs. Cracked bones snapped back into place, and he was whole again, everywhere. And utterly spent.

But he could move.

Aziraphale reached Crowley, who lay curled up on one side, eyes closed, breathing raggedly. The angel knelt down and gently touched his shoulder. No response.

He waited, fear coursing through him. He waited for his healing powers to replenish in time. They had to. He couldn’t lose Crowley now, not when they were so close.

Then Crowley stirred and moaned. His eyes opened, and he tried to move, and at the first slight effort, he let out an unearthly scream.

“Don’t move.” Aziraphale touched his face, willing every ounce of strength he had into a miracle. 

“ _Angel…”_ Crowley gasped. “It hurts….”

“I know. I’m trying to fix it. I’m sorry it’s taking so long.” He ran his hands through the air, inches above Crowley’s body, trying to find the worst spots. “Where do I start?” 

Crowley whimpered, and he bit his lower lip hard enough to draw blood. “Chest…leg….”

Aziraphale lay his hand on Crowley’s chest. He felt a flicker as his healing powers slowly returned, far too slowly. He bit back tears as Crowley let out another agonized moan. _Come on, damn you, let me heal him!_

Every second felt like an eternity as he waited. _Please_. He closed his eyes, took a few deep breaths, and _willed_ his strength to return. 

And out of a depth of sheer spiritual energy he had not known existed, the power came, flowing back into him, letting him heal again.

“It’s all right,” he whispered as Crowley writhed in pain. He touched his chest, and healed it. Then he looked at Crowley’s leg, bent in a way no leg should go. He waved a hand over, and it straightened back into place.

Crowley rolled onto his back, releasing a long sigh. 

“Is that all?” Aziraphale asked. “Did I get everything?”

All Crowley could do was nod. He lay there, drawing in deep breaths, eyes closed, for a long time. Then he opened his eyes. “Angel…what about you….”

“I’m fine. Can you sit up?”

He helped Crowley to a sitting position. “The car? Where—oh, hell.”

The Bentley had landed right side up, but was badly dented and smashed in many places. 

“I’m afraid we’re not going to be able to drive it,” Aziraphale said.

“No. I don’t have the strength to fix it.”

He did look utterly exhausted. “We’ll just have to wait, then, until you do.”

“I’m sorry, Angel…driving too fast….”

“No, you weren’t. There was a cat, remember?”

“Oh…yeah. The cat.” Crowley shook his head. “Should have hit the damned thing.”

“You don’t mean that. All God’s creatures—“

“Yeah, yeah, great and small. Stupid cat.”

They simply sat there for a while, recovering. It was a warm summer night. As it grew darker and darker, Aziraphale noticed something in the distance. A light.

“I think there’s a house nearby.” He stood and walked round the car. They had landed near an old dirt roadway, with a tree-lined river alongside. He shivered. Thank goodness the car hadn’t rolled into that. 

He went back to Crowley. “Are you feeling stronger yet? Do you think you can walk?”

“Yeah, I’m getting there.”

He helped Crowley to his feet, and steadied him as he staggered. “Take it easy.”

They slowly made their way down the path towards the light, which did not seem all that far away. Crowley’s strength returned bit by bit, though they had to stop to rest every few minutes. Aziraphale didn’t feel that steady himself, and needed the respite, too.

Eventually they drew near the house, and as they got close, Aziraphale realized it wasn’t a house at all, but an inn. A small one, with only a few cars parked in front.

They didn’t need anything now but rest. They went inside and were given a room upstairs, which they managed to climb. Once inside the small, cozy room, Aziraphale guided Crowley to the large double bed and helped him lie down beneath the sheet. “Rest. Just rest.”

“Too many clothes,” Crowley said drowsily. “Can’t sleep in clothes.”

Aziraphale had enough energy left to snap his fingers to perform a little miracle. “All gone.”

Crowley’s eyes instantly closed, and he was soon breathing deeply.

He didn’t have the energy to instantly magic his own clothes away, so the angel carefully removed them the old-fashioned human way. He folded each item neatly and piled them on top of the dresser.

Then he slid into bed and shut off the lamp.

He woke without knowing where he was at first. He knew only that it was very dark, and that someone had an arm around his chest.

As he slowly remembered what had happened and where he was, Aziraphale let out a long sigh. They had survived again, they were still here, and they were together.

He lay on his back, and Crowley was lying on his side, facing him, stretched out closely alongside. His arm was wrapped round Aziraphale, and his head was next to his, forehead touching his cheek. Aziraphale didn’t want to move, ever.

It couldn’t last, of course. He knew that Crowley would wake up, realize what he was doing, and turn away. Wouldn’t he?

Aziraphale tried to keep as still as possible, not wanting this closeness to end. He dared to lay his arm atop Crowley’s, relishing the embrace.

Eventually, of course, Crowley stirred. He shifted slightly, and stretched a little, and then settled back down. “Mm….” he murmured. “This is nice…”

Aziraphale couldn’t possibly have heard that correctly. Or Crowley wasn’t really awake, merely dreaming. “Is it?” 

Crowley opened his eyes and raised his head. “Isn’t it?”

“Of course it is.”

“Well, then.” Crowley leaned over him a little more to plant a soft kiss on Aziraphale’s forehead. Then he nestled down into the crook of the angel’s shoulder.

“Crowley….” He felt warm all over. “I didn’t think you—“

“Shhhh. Don’t talk. Just be there.”

“But—but—“ He wanted to talk. He wanted to tell him how much he loved him, how ecstatic he felt. He wanted to speak endearments all night long.

That probably wasn’t Crowley’s style, he realized. More short and to the point. It was wonderful, all the same. “Sorry. I’ll be quiet.”

“Good.” Crowley tightened his hold for a moment, then relaxed. 

Well, Aziraphale thought, he’d always heard that actions spoke louder than words…so he lightly brushed Crowley’s hair, and then kissed his forehead in return. _I’m not saying a word_.

He felt Crowley stir again, then he raised his head again, and brushed his lips across Aziraphale’s cheek. Then his hand came up to Aziraphale’s face, and his fingers brushed his lips. 

_Not a single sound_.

Crowley’s hand moved to cup his cheek, and he kissed his forehead again, then his nose, then one cheek, then the other, and then settled on his lips, drawing a gasp from the angel.

_He couldn’t speak now even had he wanted to_.

Crowley kissed him, and Aziraphale responded with sixty centuries of longing, and he didn’t need any words to know that he was loved beyond measure.

All those years…all those damnably long years. _I have loved you so very long a time. Almost an eternity._

When they finally broke apart, Crowley simply nestled into him once more, his head on Aziraphale’s pillow. 

The angel lay there, holding him, gently stroking Crowley’s arm. Time passed, or so he assumed, for he didn’t feel it passing – he felt only a stillness in the world, as if everything had come to a sudden halt. As if all the world were here in one place, in one moment that would never end.

He felt as if he had traveled a road that wound from one end of forever to now. And he knew where he had come to rest.

There were no steps on that road that he would not take again, if it meant they would lead him here. 

He was home.


End file.
